


Stifle

by Fuil_agus_deora



Category: Bodyguard (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bodyguard, David Budd - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Julia Montague - Freeform, Julia Montague Lives, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Vicky Budd - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-03-02 06:39:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 8,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18805762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuil_agus_deora/pseuds/Fuil_agus_deora
Summary: David's gun hadn't been swapped with blanks.





	1. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song:  
> Depraved by Mammals

Grief. Grief destroyed him.

In the war, it shaped him. But the war's cold, iron hands took his family away; took his stable mind away.

 

He had failed one simple task, his colleagues glancing at him with looks of disappointment and disgust. Julia was dead. Gone. Everyone thought the bomb originated from the briefcase, but he knew it didn't.

But still, he failed and fell from grace, hitting the dirt hard. 

 

As he climbed the stairs to his flat, entered, and removed the light, he knew what he had to do. His fingers grasped the gun, tightening. It's for the good of everyone, he thought. It'll be easier, he thought. 

With heavy steps, he walked upstairs, passing the three envelopes on the shelf. One for Vicky. One for Charlie. One for Ella. 

He raised the gun, resting the barrel next to his head, his finger on the trigger. He inhaled shakily, hot tears burning his skin. He shut his eyes tightly, preparing for the blinding pain. 

It never came. 

He doubled over and sobbed into his hands, biting his lip and letting the gun drop to the floor. “Fuck!” His breathing became rushed. He choked on his tears, tasting the salt on his lips and tongue. He picked up the gun again and exhaled, reminding himself that he didn't have a place in this world anymore. He positioned the gun's barrel next to his head and pulled the trigger. He thought of his children, Ella and Charlie laughing and smiling. Completely happy and innocent to the harmful world they resided in. His last thought was Julia.

A bang. Blood. Then silence. 

 

Vicky walked up the steps and knocked on her estranged husband's door. "Dave! I know you stole my keys." She knocked again. "David?" She checked to see if anyone was at the window. No one was. "Dave, open this door or I'll call the police." She waited, but no one came. Vicky took out her phone and called the police. She was worried, knowing that he had been getting worse. 

What the police had discovered confirmed her suspicions. 

 

She had to explain to their children why they wouldn't see their father anymore, and had to reassure the two children that their father loved them. You will understand when you're older, she had told them. In the back of her mind, she hated David. She hated him for leaving his kids behind. For being selfish. But then she realized that he was in need of help, that he didn't know what to do, that he was stuck. 

 

Later on, Vicky sat in the living room of the safe house, reading the letter that David had left her. She had the television on, and heard that Julia Montague was miraculously alive after being pronounced dead hours ago. 

Maybe she would visit her.


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song:  
> Broken Crown by Mumford & Sons

A week had passed since that fateful day. Vicky Budd walked down the wing to the Home Secretary's room, identifying herself as David Budd's wife to the guard. Surprisingly, the guard let her through, but everyone who worked with David knew of her husband's death. 

 

Julia Montague was reading a newspaper when Vicky walked in, a considerable distance away from her. 

Julia diverted her attention away from the newspaper, noticing the other woman. "Who are you?" 

Vicky walked closer to Julia, seeing the small flecks of scars from the explosion on the politician's face and neck. "I'm David Budd's wife, Vicky." 

"He hasn't come to see me yet. Are the guards not allowing him in?" She asked. "I suspect Roger has a hand in it. I'll have to discuss it with him."

Shit, Vicky thought, her jaw clenching. She didn't know. How was she going to tell her? "Everyone thought you were dead." 

"You know, that's what's funny. I was never dead. I guess a staff member outside of the operating theatre assumed and reported it." Julia hesitated. "Is something wrong?" 

Vicky felt tears brimming at the corners of her eyes. She couldn't cry, not now. She had been numb since that day, staying strong for the kids, who were completely devastated. Ella took it the hardest, suddenly bursting into tears in the middle of math class. And Charlie, Charlie still didn't understand what was going on. "You're... You're not going to see David." She mumbled.

Julia's eyebrow rose. "I'm sorry?"

Vicky inhaled sharply, raising her voice. "I said, you're not going to see him." Her vision was blurring, her eyes watering more. 

She tried to reassure her. "Look... Mrs. Budd, any rumors you heard about your husband and I, those rumors are not true. Your husband and I ha-"

"He's dead!" Vicky told her, tears overflowing. "He's never coming back."

Julia was taken aback. "Did... Did he die in the explosion?" 

David's wife shook her head. "No." I wish, she thought. Would be a lot easier to explain to our kids, she thought. She felt terrible thinking those thoughts, but she had to be honest with herself. "He, um..." She didn't know how to phrase it.

"He...?"

She sighed. "He shot himself. He put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger." 

"Oh." 

Vicky could've swore she saw tears in the Home Secretary's eyes. "He did it after the news reported you dead. Left three notes." She sat down, put her purse down on the floor, and chewed on the inside of her cheek for a second, contemplating. "I should've expected it."

Julia reached out and took her hand in Vicky's. "Don't ever say that. It's not your fault."

She sniffled. "But David was David. He didn't want help. I should've gave him a little push in the right direction." 

Julia let go. "How are the kids?" 

"Devastated." She responded, her eyes puffy and her nose red. "His funeral was yesterday. Ella didn't want to leave and Charlie wanted to see his dad. They had to keep the casket closed, because even the mortician couldn't mask the wound." She paused. "I saw it, it wasn't a pleasant sight." 

"I'm sorry."

Vicky wiped her eyes. "You killed him." She stood up and grabbed her purse. "Remember that." Vicky Budd then walked out.


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song:  
> Teardrop by Massive Attack

Vicky exhaled, her breath visible in the chill air. She shivered, standing outside of David's old flat. She checked her phone for the time. One of David's co-workers was coming 'round to help her pack up some things and do some extra cleaning. She slid her phone into her pocket when she saw a car drive up and park. Louise got out, locking her car.

"Thank you again." Vicky said.

"It's no problem at all." Louise replied, approaching her. She was carrying a bag full of cleaning supplies. "Shall we?" She motioned to the stairs.

The blonde nodded and started to walk up the steps with her.

"How have you been?" Louise asked.

Vicky shrugged. "Alright, I guess. It's the kids who are dealing with it the hardest." She sighed. "They didn't know about his trauma. I just regret not putting him on the right track."

"You did everything you could. He was sick and he denied it. I think he didn't want to be seen as vulnerable in front of his peers or simply couldn't accept it. It's not your fault, you know that?" She opened the door.

As the women entered the flat, Vicky noticed that his mail was still being sent. She picked it up and went through it. "Fucking bills. I'll have to tell the postman not to send his mail here anymore."

Louise turned on the light. The clean up crew had done a splendid job getting rid of most of the blood and gore, but they did miss tiny specks of blood here and there. Boxes full of items were piled up against the wall in the living room. Vicky had been packing up his possessions for days. Most of the rooms were empty. She would have to sell some of the furniture.

Louise went into the kitchen and opened the fridge, throwing out the contents as Vicky went through the rest of the stuff in the living room. She paused, coming across a picture of her and the kids. She stared at it for a few seconds, blinking away tears. She placed the photo in her purse.

The officer was in the main entrance when she noticed something off with the light. She reached up and touched it, pushing it up and revealing a space in the ceiling. She moved her hand and grabbed something. It was a USB. "Vicky! Come here."

Vicky got up from her stop and went over to her. "What is it?"

She held up the USB. "I found this. I think David hid it."

"What do you think is on it?"

"That's the question. I don't know, but I do know that I have to show this to DCI Deepak Sharma. Are you okay with that?"

She nodded. "Of course."

  


Julia laid in her hospital bed. She felt weak. Her entire body felt weak. She was still recovering.

And now David was dead.

She didn't know what to do, and his wife seemed hellbent on blaming her. Or was she? She didn't know anything anymore apparently, but Vicky was certainly aggressive.

She missed him.

Yes, she missed him.

They hadn't even completely made up. She remembered how his fingers felt around her throat, squeezing tighter and tighter, and how scared she'd been. She had flailed and kicked and he still wouldn't let go. His expression was blank, almost as if he wasn't present. He realized what he did seconds after, but it was frightening.

Julia started to cry, hot tears spilling down her cheeks, her breathing starting to hitch.

It felt like he was strangling her again.


	4. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song:  
> Ára Bátur by Sigur Rós

They had found him, sprawled across the floor, the weapon still in his grip.

There was a large gaping hole on the side of his face, the exit wound. Vicky had caught a quick glimpse of it and almost spilled the contents of her lunch.

There was so much blood. So, so much blood.

Death was a messy business.

Louise recommended a support group to Vicky. For weeks, Vicky had the group on the back of her mind. She was so busy and her brain was occupied. There was the possibility of her and the kids being a target, so they were at the safe house.

Vicky was packing lunches when there was a knock at the door. It was Louise.

Louise walked in. "Morning."

She paused on the lunches and leaned against the counter, facing her. "Hey. What's going on?" 

"You know that USB we found in the light fixture?"

Vicky nodded and crossed her arms. "Yes." 

The officer sighed. "David recorded conversations that the Home Secretary had with other government officials. I don't know who for, but it's possible that he was the one who leaked the itinerary at Thornton Circus. He was the one who let Tahir Mahmood backstage at the St. Matthew's College bombing, so he probably had a hand in that as well."

Vicky was speechless. "N-No... David would never do anything like that." 

"It's only a possibility. I'm sorry, Vicky." She left without another word. 

Vicky put her face in her hands, pushing back her hair away from her face. Could he have been a part of this entire scheme? No, he would never get involved in something like that. She was certain he was innocent. He had too much to lose. She thought for a few minutes and then resumed making lunches. She would have to think about it some more.

She had the day off. After dropping off the kids at school, she set her GPS to the location of that support group.


	5. V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song:  
> Bottom Of The River by Delta Rae

She remembered the way he smelled, of faint honey and lavender. 

She remembered the way he felt, his large hand in hers as she caressed the rough skin on his hand with her thumb. 

She remembered his scars, twisted and grim. 

And now he had betrayed her. 

He had spied on her, recording her conversations. Julia felt that her entire trust in him was shattered. David was the only person she trusted, and it turned out to be a farce. 

She didn’t know if he actually loved her, but she knew she loved him. 

And now he was being accused of the Thornton Circus shootout and the St. Matthew’s bomb, and he wasn’t able to defend himself. Her first thought was, he wouldn’t.

But apparently she didn’t know him well enough. 

If only she could talk to him. 

Her feelings for him were conflicted. She hated feeling this way about anything, especially David. 

Julia thought about Vicky’s words to her. What did they mean? She killed him? She wanted to talk to Vicky, but decided against it. 

She wanted to be angry about everything. However, she was too exhausted to care at the moment. Recovery was a slow process for her. Her hospital room was full of flowers and get well cards. She was bored and she couldn’t stop dwelling on David and his last moments. She hated feeling vulnerable and tricked, and vowed to herself that she would be the one responsible to bring her assassins to justice. 

It was the least she could do, for him.


	6. VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! No song this time. This is a really short chapter, probably because I'm setting up for the next chapter.

She didn't know what she expected. Did he ever love her or did he just enjoy fucking her? They were both starved and desperate from loneliness. He was damaged, and she was frustrated. What a match.

Julia closed her book, sitting outside in the hospital's garden. She could feel tiny drops of water on her face, reflecting on the moments her and David shared. Her nurse recommended for her to move inside, but she refused, wanting to feel the water on her healing skin. There were so, so many things she wished she could say. She was getting sick of this place, absolutely bored, and she wanted to return to her life. She hated being stuck in this position, in this limbo, especially alone. 

 

Vicky was standing in the rain, shielded by an umbrella. An older woman stood beside her, her mother-in-law. They were quiet for a few minutes, staring at the polished and engraved gravestone. 

At last, David's mother spoke up. "Death seems to follow my family."

"David would call me when he was drunk sometimes." Vicky responded quietly. 

"He was just like his father. Perhaps too much."


	7. VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, this is a flashback.

The empty, sterile halls echoed with every step she made. She was desperate to see him again after only hearing his voice for five months. Her eyes scanned the room numbers and she stopped, walking into a room. 

There he was. Her husband. 

Five. Goddamn. Months. 

And he was in a fucking hospital bed.

When he saw her, his lips curled into a grin. "Vic."

She rushed to him, throwing her arms around him and kissed him. "God, I missed you!" 

He winced, his face contorted for a few seconds. "Careful, love. Not so tight. Don't crush me." 

She pulled away and held his hand gently. "Sorry, Dave." 

"It's fine." His grin returned, his thumb tracing circles on her hand. "How are you and Ella?" 

Vicky lifted her other hand up to her head and pushed back a lock of hair. "We're fine. She misses you." 

His eyes drifted down to her large stomach. She was heavily pregnant. "And the little one?" 

His wife smiled. "The baby's fine too."

His eyes met her eyes, and at first she thought that the dullness in his eyes was just exhaustion. After all, the man had been wounded. But then she realized that there was something off. Something had died within him. And she knew that he would never be quite the same again. He would never be the man she fell in love with again. 

 

The doctor had recommended to Vicky to transfer David to the psychiatric ward, just to observe him. The doctor was convinced that Afghanistan had taken a toll on him.

Obviously, David wasn't happy about the transfer. He just wanted to return home. During his stay, he was quiet and withdrawn, refusing to socialize. He felt isolated and alienated, like he wasn’t normal. It chewed at him. He had restless nights, staring up at the ceiling and hearing constant gunfire, his hands clenching into fists and his pupils dilated.

 

One of the nurses escorted David into the psychiatrist's office. He felt like he matched the bland and dull decor of the office, wearing grey clothes the hospital had provided for him. He sat down, preparing himself for anything this psychiatrist was going to throw at him. 

"Hello, David." The woman greeted him cheerfully. She was older and had an annoying tone to her voice that he disliked. "How are you today?'

"Fine." He muttered. 

"I'm sure you miss your family." 

He nodded, silent, fiddling with the plastic identification bracelet around his wrist. 

"As a war vet, you must've understood that sometimes veterans come back with burdens."

He was getting frustrated, feeling like a child with the way she kept wording her sentences. "Yes. I do." 

"This is very common among people in your position. I want you to know that you are not alone."

"Just get to the point please." 

The psychiatrist sighed. "David... I want to know if you've experienced anything traumatic before Afghanistan." 

David gulped, he was a deer caught in headlights. Shit, he thought. That was unexpected. "Um... Yes..." 

"Can you describe the event?" 

Well, fuck. He should've said no, but he would be lying. 

His throat felt dry, and he looked down for a second, his hands in his lap. "My father..."

"What about your father?" 

David sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. His heart was racing. "I was 14, and I was going to go fishing with a couple of my friends." He opened his eyes and looked up. "I-I walked into the garage and found my father there, hanging from the ceiling..." He blinked away tears and sniffed. He remembered how he felt when he discovered him, betrayed and stunned. 

His father’s suicide had left him and his mother with a financial crisis, so he had decided to join the military after he graduated.

"Why do you think he did that?" She asked. 

"He... He was a heavy drinker."

There was a pause. The psychiatrist leaned back in her chair. "I've spoken to some of my colleagues about what I've observed and what they've observed." She folded her hands, placing them on the desk. "We've all agreed that you have post traumatic stress disorder." 

David was shocked. No, he couldn't. 

The psychiatrist continued. "I recommend that you see a therapist, or it's going to spiral out of control, David." 

 

David was back in his hospital room, mulling over the information he was just given. He felt fine. He was fine. He didn’t need help.


	8. VIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song:  
> Dread from the Bodyguard soundtrack.
> 
> We're also back to the present.

The rain had stopped. 

Julia was going through files and paperwork, sitting up in her hospital bed. Her mind kept wandering to St. Matthew’s College, wondering if her confrontation with the Prime Minister was one of the reasons why she was targeted. 

She lifted her head up and took off her glasses when she heard a knock on the door. "Come in."

The door opened, and standing in the doorway was Stephen Hunter-Dunn, the Director-General of the security service. "Hello, Julia." He started to walk in, stoic and unemotional. "I'm glad to hear that you are feeling better."

She scoffed to herself. "What are you here for, Stephen?" 

The man sat down in the chair besides her bed, leaning back and crossing his legs. "What do you think I'm here for, Julia?"

"The kompromat I assume." 

"You would assume correctly." He adjusted his position. "Rodger was hellbent on locating it. So," he paused. "Where is it?"

Julia stared him down. "I wouldn't know." 

Stephen glared at her. "You and I, we're not the only one who knew about Longcross. PS David Budd, your PPO, did too. It makes sense now, how he knew about my officer."

"You needn't worry about David now." She replied. 

"Yes, but we have something new to worry about, Julia." 

Julia was confused, utterly confused. What did he mean? "Something new? What do you mean?" 

"There's been accusations that you and PS Budd had intimate relations."

Her heart sank. "Where'd you hear that from?" Julia asked.

"There's a recording."

Oh fuck. She should've known. "My room was bugged? Who would do that?"

Stephen shrugged. "I wouldn't know." 

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you blackmailing me?"

The Director-General sighed. "I didn't want to do this." Lie, Julia thought. "But that kompromat was valuable and could risk national security. You don't find it? That recording will be released. You know full well what the consequences are." He started to get up. "And who knows? Maybe David took the kompromat. Unfortunately, you won't be able to ask him."

"Maybe David played a bigger part in this than I thought."

"Quite frankly, he's dead. He betrayed your trust and had information that could put the country in turmoil." 

"Don't remind me." Julia responded.

"Maybe you shouldn't have put so much trust in your blue-eyed boy. Look where it's gotten you." He turned on his heels and left the room, closing the door behind him, and leaving Julia to ponder on the situation.


	9. IX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song:  
> Acid Rain by Lorn
> 
> Also, parts of this chapter will be flashbacks. It'll be weaving back and forth between present and past.

"I'm afraid I can't do tonight. I'm sorry." 

Vicky was standing in the living room, on her phone. She had cancelled her plans for tonight due to work in the early morning. After a couple of lines of conversation was exchanged, she hung up with a "Bye." She plopped down onto the sofa and sighed, observing her surroundings. 

After a couple of minutes had passed, she got up and grabbed her coat. 

She would find David here, on the porch. A cigarette would usually be in between his fingers or his lips, smoke drifting into the atmosphere. Sometimes he would have a drink or three. Sometimes he would have nothing at all. 

He'd ignore her. 

The smoking was new, but he knew better than to smoke around the kids. However, the smell of smoke did linger on his breath. 

The psychiatrist, or the "fucking head-shrink" as David kindly called her, had prescribed him pills for anxiety and depression. Vicky knew he didn't take them, and she insisted for him to go to therapy, but he'd brush her off. 

They had simple good moments, or they had complex devastating moments. There was no inbetween. 

 

_Vicky opened the drawer to find that all of his pills were gone. Her heart stopped momentarily, dreading the worst. She grasped the empty bottles and marched over to David, who was lying on the sofa, bottles of beer on the floor._

__

__

_“David! What the fuck?!”_

__

__

_He didn’t even look at her. “What?”_

__

__

_“Where the fuck are your pills?!” She demanded, concerned._

__

__

_He sat up with some difficulty, clearly inebriated. “Flushed ‘em down the toilet.” He slurred._

 

Vicky went back inside, taking off her jacket. She walked to the kitchen, intending to make dinner for herself and the kids. 

 

_Her and David had been arguing about something she couldn't remember; his drinking perhaps. Their voices were aggressive and raised, and he really was not in a great mood or in the right mindset._

__

__

_Their children were watching the situation unfold._

__

__

_He had snapped and spat, saying something that offended her. She was in disbelief and tried to defend herself, also making it clear that he needed help._

__

__

_He didn't take that well and smashed the glass bottle he was holding against the counter before starting to leave; brushing past his children without even acknowledging them, going to the porch for a smoke._

__

__

_All the while, he convinced himself._

__

__

_He was fine he was fine he was fine he wasfinehewasfinehewasfinehewasfinehewasfine_

__

__

_He was fine._


	10. X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song:  
> Makarov from the Bodyguard soundtrack

Julia was home. 

Finally. 

It felt strange to be alone again. She had become used to visitors at her door in the hospital, never getting a moment alone. 

Now it felt lonely. Like she was the only one in this world.

Julia was advised to take it easy. Her body was still recovering, after all. She decided to check her mail, the large pile of papers on her table. She went through them, uninterested, until she stopped, reaching an envelope with her first name on it. 

David's handwriting. 

She bit her lip. Was this...? 

No. 

No no no no no.

No. 

With a shaky hand, she hesitantly opened it, sliding out the paper as if it was extremely delicate. She didn't even want to read it, not prepared for the wracking sobs that tore through her fragile, paper-like body. She had a steel spine around people. With David, she was different. 

She didn't read it.

Well, not yet. 

 

He was in her dreams.

At first, the content of the dreams were pleasant, he seemingly happy and handsome, laughter rang out; but they quickly turned sour, much like the relationship. 

Soon, she was confronted with the disturbing sight of David Budd, the exit wound of the bullet on the side of his face. Blood was matted in his hair like a gory crown and crimson flecks were all over his pale, sunken skin.

“You killed me.” Dead, empty eyes. Pupils dilated. Cold as ice. “You killed me, Julia.”

To say that Julia Montague was terrified was an understatement. 

He was looming right at the foot of her bed, in the dark. Blood dripped from his lips onto the white sheets as he repeated what he said. 

"You killed me."

 

The Home Secretary woke up in a thin layer of sweat, trying to catch her breath and process what she just witnessed.

She was petrified.

No blood resided on her sheets.


	11. XI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No song this time, sorry. 
> 
> Also, I'm writing another Bodyguard fic. It's only a oneshot. Don't expect it to be happy though.

Sometimes she wished he had used a belt, or overdosed, or drank himself to death.

A gun was too painful, too much of a bloody mess. 

And Vicky felt terrible for thinking those things.

She always seemed to feel terrible.

 

She was going about her business at work, occasionally chattering with the other nurses. Today had been a busy, but okay, day. The only downside was spilling water all over her scrubs, but eventually, the water dried. 

At least, that was the only downside until a man approached her. He was blond, nearing on gray, and obviously older than her. He identified himself as a security officer, and told her that he needed to ask her some questions. She hesitantly obeyed. 

"Ms. Budd, what time did your husband usually come home?" 

Well.

She didn't expect that. 

"Um," She started, confused. "Late. Why?"

"Are you aware of his relationship with the Home Secretary?" He then asked. 

"Dave told me that it was just a professional relationship, nothing more." Vicky said. 

Right?

"I'm afraid he'd been lying to you." The officer paused. "His relationship with the Home Secretary was more personal than most people suspected."

So that's what Julia meant when she mentioned rumors. 

"And how was this supposed to affect me?" Vicky deflected. She honestly could not care less about David's love life. They were separated, after all. She was just stunned by the fact that he had no intention of telling her. 

"There might something compromising released to the press. Just thought you should know." Before Vicky could speak, the officer walked off. 

Vicky sighed, the realization of a possible recording dawning.

_David, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?_


	12. XII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song:  
> Turn You Into Stone by Fleurie

Julia was alone.

Her body was still sore, but she would pull through. She longed to prove to her opponents that she could bounce back and become stronger than before; to have an upper hand in politic's male-dominated community. She couldn’t show weakness, for it could be used against her.

They would not get rid of her easily, she wouldn't let them. Besides, she still possessed sensitive information. 

 

She poured herself a much-needed glass of red wine and sat down at the desk, pulling out a file from a drawer. 

Thornton Circus. 

She didn't know why she was going over this incident, but it felt right to. David had saved her life while she screamed in horror, her tough exterior pieced at that moment. David had comforted her, had told her she was going to be all right, and in the process, had risked his own life to protect hers. That was a debt she could never repay. 

And then that same night was when their relationship progressed. Tension diminished. He was hesitant at first, but he was there for her, all the while being gentle and understanding. They laid there, in complete and utter silence. After he left that morning, she wasn't sure if she was ever going to kiss him again, touch him again, look into his caring eyes. But she was wrong, and she was content about that. 

There was a knock at her door, and she got up to answer it, remembering that she had never invited anyone over. Julia hoped it was David standing at her doorstep, but was disappointed to discover it was Rob. 

“Oh.” She simply said. 

Rob smiled. “Hello, Julia.” The aide was carrying takeaway. 

"Rob, a pleasant surprise." The woman forced a small smile onto her lips. "I see you brought food. Come in." 

 

They were sitting across each other, munching on Thai food that Rob had brought. It reminded Julia of that night that David ate over at her flat after a rather awkward attempted dinner with Rob, but Rob was a very basic man. He was educated, yes, but he lacked the intelligence and reflexes that David had gained from his time in the army. Rob wanted to impress her, to win her affections like a bird by buying her expensive bottles of wine and taking her out to eat and showing off. David, on the other hand, had no concern for those frivolous things. When they first met, she had no idea if he disliked her. He was quiet most of the time and did his job, rightfully so. 

"You're feeling better?" Rob asked. 

"Yes, thank you." 

Rob was seemingly a little nervous. "I got wine. Do you want some now or later?"

Julia looked up. "No, not now. Thank you." She returned her attention to her food, having grown tired of the hospital food. 

"Julia? Are you going to return to the Home Office? Everyone misses you."

She paused and sighed. "I plan to. I'll have to secure my position again, but yes."

"You'll be assigned a new PPO." Rob said. 

"I'm well aware." 

The conversation ceased for a couple of seconds. It felt weird and unfamiliar. She knew that Rob’s first impressions of PS Budd was that he was stern and focused, and certainly not a man you would want to mess with. Yet there was something in his brooding eyes, something unhinged.

She could hear Rob inhale. "Julia..."

"Hm?" She questioned, not looking up. 

She could feel a hand grasp hers, and her eyes wandered to their hands. She mentally swore. 

"I missed you." The man across from her told her, biting his lip. 

"Rob..." 

His voice faltered. "I... I think this could work, Julia."

"Rob, stop." She tore her hand away from his and stood up, walking towards the window. "Fuck..."

The man looked hurt and disappointed. "Why? I've been trying to give you hints for two years. I brought stuff for you."

She glared at him. "I know; and I've been giving you hints that I, your boss, am not interested. I think it’s pretty fucking obvious, and I'm not going to give you the liberty of embarrassing yourself further." Her glare softened, and she looked exhausted. You're nice, Rob, but you're not for me." 

“Are you sure? You look tired, Julia,” Rob had told her. “Are you alright?” 

Rob still wouldn’t stop his forlorn advances and it infuriated her. She had no energy to deal with him right now, for her horrendous nightmares of a bygone lover kept her up. But she couldn’t confide in Rob. He probably thought that David was a minuscule detail in her life and would be confused why she was dreaming about her former bodyguard. 

“Yes, I’m fine.” She snapped, and that set Rob straight. She sighed once again, turning back to stare out the window. "I think you should go."

"But-"

Julia raised a hand to stop him from speaking. "Don't even try. Go. I want you to leave. Take your wine with you."

Without another word, Rob walked out of her flat, wine bottle in hand. 

 

The politician made a beeline to her study after she heard the door close, flicking on the light. She grabbed the photo of her, Rodger, and the Prime Minister and removed the frame. She held her breath as she lifted up a plastic bag with a tablet inside. It could either help her climb up the ladder or tarnish her reputation. 

There was no way in hell she was returning the kompromat. If she was going down, she would drag the bloody Prime Minister down with her to the bottom.


	13. XIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song:  
> Saturn by Sleeping At Last

The faint shrill of sirens lingered in the air. Fog covered most of London like a damp blanket, obscuring roads and buildings. Everyone seemed to be in a depressing mood due to the miserable weather. 

 

Vicky sat down at the cafeteria, on break. Another nurse had entered and spotted her after grabbing lunch, going over to her. 

“Hey, is it okay if I sit here with you?” She asked.

Vicky nodded. “Sure, Tabitha, I don’t mind.” 

The woman sat down, placing her tray on the table. “How are you doing? After everything?”

“Managing.” She swirled a plastic stirrer into her tea, mixing the milk and sugar. She watched as the the hot drink became lighter, and she wished she could change as quickly as that. 

“Dave’s mum?”

Vicky sighed. “Still mourning. She’s getting through it though.” She glanced out the large panel of glass, watching people go by on the sidewalks. “The kids are helping, kind of.” 

"Kind of?" The woman asked.

She sighed. "It's difficult for her, especially when Charlie looks so much like his father, but she's trying." She took a small sip of her tea as the nurse across from her started on a muffin. "She's an absolute sweetheart."

Tabitha only nodded. 

"What about you? How've you been doing?" Vicky questioned. 

"I've been fine. Aleksander and I are going to Denmark for our anniversary to visit his parents. Second year together."

Vicky sipped her tea again, ignoring the burning sensation on her tongue. "Great." 

 

The door opened, and Vicky tossed her bag onto the floor. "Kids! Mummy's home!" She called out, taking off her jacket. There was no reply. The house was empty and completely quiet. "Ella? Charlie? Heidi?" She looked around until she spotted a note on the kitchen counter. She picked it up and read it. 

_Vicky,_

_I've picked up the kids and we're going to a movie. Might go someplace to eat beforehand. We'll be back in a couple of hours. In the meantime, relax. You need it._

_Heidi_

Vicky was relieved. Dave's mum had taken the kids off her hands for the evening. She went upstairs to her room, changing out of her scrubs and putting on some comfortable clothes. 

She went to the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of wine before settling down on the sofa and turning on the television. She flipped through channels, finding that there was nothing on. The woman groaned in frustration, having had a long and trying day. She placed her glass on the coaster and went to the DVD stand, going through the catalog. She stumbled upon a DVD in a white envelope, the marker smudged. Vicky couldn't read it, but she suspected she knew what it was. 

She hesitantly popped the DVD into the player, plopping back onto the sofa. She grabbed the remote, picking up the wine glass, and pressed play. 

Vicky's ears were met with a heavy Scottish accent, mingling with her own voice. Her eyes were met with David in a black suit, and herself in a white dress. Laughter and the chattering of voices were scattered in the background, but her and Dave's voices were the loudest, clear as day. The camera was shaky, and she remembered that a friend had filmed the wedding reception for them.

It had been a beautiful night, strings of lights surrounding the large porch of the lake house as the lake’s water crashed gently on the shore. She remembered when her and Dave had gone to the water later that night to get away from the party, both barefoot with their hands clasped together, stealing a few minutes to themselves before returning. 

Memories rushed through her mind, and she tried not to tear up. She gripped her glass tighter and curled up. It reminded her of so many events, and he was taken away from her. Cruelly, violently, on his own accord.

She’d give anything to bring him back.

Dave was chuckling, telling a story to her and his friend about the time a buddy of his at boot camp misinterpreted the phrase "beat your face." He explained that the phrase in military terms meant to do pushups, but the guy had taken that literally and punched himself in the face.

She couldn't quite make out what the friend was saying to them due to the sound quality and the loud music, but they were in conversation. She had never seen Dave so happy in a long, long time. He seemed _normal_ , almost.

Their marriage was stable back then.

She savored the wine in her glass, pouring herself more if needed as she watched the entire reception. 

This was the beginning of the end for them.


	14. XIV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song:  
> How to Save a Life by the Fray

Dead eyes. 

That was what was staring back at her.

He returned to her, angry and insistent.

This time, he was leaning in the corner of her bedroom, arms wrapped around himself. The man was rocking back and forth, muttering “You killed me.” over and over again under his breath, staring at the floor. 

The crimson of the blood was a stark contrast against his brilliant, blue eyes.

She didn’t dare make contact with those lifeless eyes. 

Instead, she tried to speak, but his head turned, revealing the ghastly exit wound that almost made Julia throw up. 

She was getting more nervous as he stalked towards her, her breath caught his her throat. She felt a tremendous amount of guilt, but she couldn’t move, stuck in the corpse’s glare.

He hated her. 

Just as he was about to part his split, bloody lips, she woke up.

  
  


In the span of a couple of weeks, Julia had returned to her old job against the advice of her doctors, re-securing her position.

She entered the conference room for the first time in ages, seeing that everyone, including Stephen Hunter-Dunn, Anne Sampson, and Mike Travis had sat down. “Well. Where shall we begin?” She asked as she seated herself at the head of the table.

Mike Travis lifted up his head, clasping his hands together. “I think that I can speak for everyone, Home Secretary. We’re all incredibly grateful to have you standing here, right in front of us.”

Julia smiled. “Thank you, Mike.” She turned her head to Anne Sampson. “Any progress on the investigation?”

Anne opened up a file. “We’re still going through the recordings that David Budd had possession of. His hotel room was searched, and we found the device.” 

Julia kept quiet. 

Anne continued. “We’ve also heard from several witnesses that David Budd allowed Tahir Mamood backstage.” She turned on the television and pulled up the security camera’s recording of the interaction. “We have recovered CCTV of David Budd checking the briefcase and he still allowed it through.” She clicked play, letting the video start.

Julia watched, her grip on the table getting tighter and her lips pressing together. 

 

_The politician grabbed her officer’s hand, his name spilling from her lips abruptly as he stared at her. “I want you right beside me...” She paused as David continued staring at her. “Not because it’s your job,” her eyes flicked up to his face. “But because it’s our choice.”_

  
  


_She saw David running towards her._

_She was about to continue as a massive force pushed her back._

_Searing pain ripped through her body as she landed on the hard floor with a thud, sparks flying._

_She could somewhat hear commotion, but her vision was blurred. Ash covered every inch of skin and clothes; and she could taste it in her mouth. It spilled into her throat and lungs like seawater, almost like she was drowning. She couldn’t move much, twitching occasionally._

_Hands. Familiar hands._

_David._

  
  


Julia floated back into the conversation, missing some of what Anne had said.

“... And there is a possibility that he could’ve leaked the Home Secretary’s itinerary at Thornton Circus. Who knows what he was going to do with the recordings?” 

“Shame you can’t question him now.” Stephan commented, smug. 

Anne ignored him and looked at Julia. “Don’t you find it a little bit suspicious that he took his own life? He was the perfect candidate for this type of plot. Marital struggles, different politics than his principal, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, a loner. Plus, my people tracked that pistol that was used to commit the suicide, and he had smuggled it from Afghanistan.” 

Julia sighed and leaned forward. “There is the possibility that he could have been blackmailed or cocerced into all this, or he could be the fall guy for something much larger.” She glanced up at the screen. “If he wanted me dead, then why did he protect me at Thornton Circus?”

Anne and Mike gave each other a look for a moment. “I-I don’t know, Home Secretary. Perhaps he didn’t want to raise suspicion?” Mike stuttered, not expecting the question Julia had tossed out. 

“I think we should move on. Anne, give me updates on the investigation.” Julia told her, wanting to get away from the topic.

“Of course.” Anne replied.

  
  
Rob had been avoiding her, and for that, she was grateful. Their relationship had declined, both in an awkward position.

The blonde, Norwegian guard wasn’t the same as David, her David. 

Julia tucked a strand of hair behind her face as she strided into the building, her new bodyguard at her side. It felt unnerving and confined, unlike David, who made her feel so safe and confident. 

Sometimes, she’d spot him out of the corner of her eye, only to turn and see that he wasn’t there. 

She wanted to hold his hand, to kiss those lips, to hear his heavy accent. One more time.

But she couldn’t, for he was rotting six feet under.


	15. XV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No song this time, sorry.

She had _finally_ sold David’s flat.

It felt strange, to be responsible for another adult’s possessions.

Especially her late to-be-ex-husband’s possessions. 

 

Vicky was getting better, slowly. That group that Louise recommended was helping a bit, and the two had become friends. 

They were at a café, sitting across from each other at a table next to the window as Vicky told the woman about the strange encounter she had with the man at the hospital.

“So, this man just approached you and told you that some compromising material might be released?” Louise asked, bringing the cup to her lips. 

“Yes,” Vicky replied. “I need you to identify him.”

“Well... We can try to put him through the system based off your description and see what comes up.” She sighed. “What do you think the material could be?” 

The nurse hesitated. “I don’t know.” She lied, still processing the fact that him and Julia had that sort of personal relationship. “I haven’t got a clue.” 

Louise raised an eyebrow, suspecting her friend’s dishonesty, but decided to leave it alone. “Vicky... I have to tell you something.” 

That didn’t sound good. She braced herself.

The officer laid a hand on her arm. “David knew the Thornton Circus sniper. Hell, even served alongside him in the army. He lied about knowing him, isn’t that suspicious? He’s the primary suspect for leaking the Home Secretary's itinerary. People like him have a certain distaste for people like her, for politicians who hide behind their reputation and influence the press to their liking.”

Vicky was speechless once again, not bothering to say anything.

“Look, all I’m saying is that the information is going to be released. The news is going to slander him and drag him through the mud.”

Vicky gulped. “They’re going to slander a dead man.”

“Exactly, I don’t want you to watch the news, read the articles, any of that. Same goes for Ella and Charlie. Can you do that?” Her friend asked gently.

She nodded. “Yes,” was her quiet response.

“Good. Just don’t think about it, even if the press is going to have a field day with this.”

Vicky didn’t say anything else, wanting to be left alone.

After this, her husband would be forever known as Julia Montague’s assassin.


	16. XVI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No song, sorry.

It was all over the news. 

How David Budd was involved in the two incidents that both focused on ending her life, Julia didn't know.

All she knew was that it wouldn't be long until the true nature of their relationship was revealed. After all, she still had the kompromat. 

 

As she was in her office, she was visited by none other than Stephan Hunter-Dunn. Wonderful.

She watched with a disinterested stare as he sat down, hands folded. "Home Secretary, such a pity to bother you, but it seems that you haven't made any progress in locating the kompromat."

A smile started to tug at Julia's lips, but she tried to stifle it. "It seems, Stephan, that I do not know where your precious kompromat is." She leaned back in her chair, her leg crossed over the other. "Go ahead, release the recording. What would you gain from it anyway?" 

"You seem to be hiding something, Julia." He told her calmly, deflecting the question. 

"Other than the fact that I was fucking my bodyguard? No, Stephan, you're mistaken." She placed her hands on her desk. "You can leave now." 

The man stood up and headed to the door. Right before he exited the room, he turned to her. "You'll be involved in a scandal of the decade, forcing you to step down. Sleep well." And with that, he left. 

 

He appeared in her dreams again.

  
  


This time, she was curled near the headboard of the bed as he screamed at her, blue eyes were filled with despair and fury, hands clenched and fingers clawed; almost threatening to choke her out again, on purpose. 

Of course, he never touched her. He was just a figment of her nightmares. 

The real David would never guilt her, would never scream at or threaten her. 

She wasn’t afraid anymore.

 

She never expected to be embroiled in such a scandal. Her heels clinked on the cobblestone as press scrambled for answers. She ignored them, of course, but they were like children, trying to get what they wanted. 

Her phone rang, and she mentally groaned when she saw it. Rodger. She answered it anyway, holding the phone up to her ear. "Hello? This is Julia Montague speaking."

"Julia, what the fuck?!" Rodger spat. He sounded pissed, clearly not happy with the situation. "Do you understand how pervasive this is?"

“That didn’t stop you from fucking up our marriage by cheating on me. And, Rodger, I don’t care. My sex life is personal, and you’re no longer a part of it.” She hung up, not letting him have another word. 

She could feel the tension in the building because of her as she walked to her office. It had spread like wildfire, and she was way less than overjoyed. She found it silly, but the nation would be rocked once more by what information she possessed. She had to figure out a way how to regain the upper hand, and fast.

 _“Police Sergeant David Budd is identified in the tape, his death a mere few hours after Julia Montague’s supposed murder.”_ The reporter explained. _“It is possible he was tied to the Thornton Circus shooting and St. Matthew’s, a twist of cruel fate.”_

An idea sparked.


	17. XVII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nah, no song.

The doorbell rang.

“Coming!” Vicky rushed over to the door, opening it.

Julia Montague was standing in front of her, a small smile on her lips. “Hello, Ms. Budd. May I come in?” 

Vicky nodded. “Yes, of course, please do. You’re welcome to sit anywhere.” 

The politician walked in, thanking the other woman. Julia heard running and voices, looking up at the stairs to see that a girl and a boy were coming down. 

“Ella, Charlie, come here!” The two children stopped when they reached their mother, staring up at the guest with curious eyes. 

God, Charlie was the splitting image of David. 

The girl, Ella, knew who Julia was. “You’re Julia Montague, right?”

“Yes, I am.” She didn’t know how to react to or interact with kids, especially those of a man whom she adored. Her and Rodger never discussed having children, never had the time.

The boy, Charlie, was hyperactive. “You’re that girl who got brought back to life!” 

“Uh, yes.”

“So you’re a zombie?” Charlie asked.

Julia chuckled, due to the fact that the question was so genuine. 

“Charlie!” Ella exclaimed, attempting to shove her younger brother, who managed to dodge the push. 

Vicky seemed exhausted. “Okay, you two, back upstairs. Mamó’s going home this weekend.” 

The two children glanced at each other and raced up the stairs. 

“Mamó?” Julia questioned, not recognizing the word.

“Gaelic for grandmother. Dave’s mum’s been staying for a bit to help with the kids.”

“Ah, okay. They’re both a bundle of energy.” Julia told Vicky, going over to the couch.

“They sure are.” Vicky replied, sounding exhausted. “Would you like a cuppa?” 

“Yes please, thank you. Milk, no sugar.”

As Vicky went into the kitchen to make tea, Julia looked around. She spotted pictures of David and the kids, Vicky and the kids, baby pictures, military pictures...

There was only one picture of the four together. 

She realized that he used to have his life together, that his marriage was successful. She was snapped back into reality as Vicky handed her the mug and sat down. 

“You know, I’ve been keeping them away from the telly. They’re too young to know about all this, the scandal, about you and Dave.” 

"I'm sorry." Julia took a sip of her tea. “David was a good man. He doesn't deserve this.” 

“You didn’t know him like I did.” She paused, staring at her feet. “He changed after the war, became everything he didn’t want to be.” 

“In what way did he become everything he didn’t want to be?”

“Drinking, smoking, anything that reminded him of his father.”

David had never spoken about his father, so Julia was confused, but she wasn’t going to ask. The Home Secretary said nothing.

“He was troubled, and I regret not helping him.”

“I don’t regret meeting him. Him and I, we somehow understood each other. There was no need for words.” Another sip. “He left me a note.”

Vicky raised her head. “It must’ve been his suicide note. He left one for me, for Ella, and for Charlie.”

There was a pause, long and somewhat comfortable. Julia felt like she was trespassing, and maybe she was. 

“Pardon me for asking, but why are you here?” Vicky asked suddenly.

“Because,” Julia had to chose her words carefully. “I want you to come in and to prove the Metropolitan Police Department wrong. I know that David was innocent.” 

“And how do I do that?”

“Convince them. Convince them that David wasn’t tied to Thornton Circus and St. Matthew’s. Convince them that he was a fall guy.”

The mother sighed. "And what about the scandal?"

Julia put down her mug on the table. "I'll take care of that."

Vicky considered her options for a good few minutes, weighing the consequences. "Fine."

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is greatly appreciated!


End file.
